Noise in the City
by wixley-kryptonese
Summary: When the Man-Who-Conquered visited the Ministry with Luna, he didn't expect to suddenly appear in his bedroom at Privet Drive, standing across from his twelve year old self - and neither did he predict, after deciding to interfere with young Harry's life, that all of a sudden more versions of himself would appear, including a fiery redhead with hazel eyes and a wicked smile.
1. Chapter 1

Two pairs of emerald green eyes met, staring at each other for less than two seconds before they both sprang away from each other, tumbling to the carpeted floor. Both figures were similar, nearly identical if not for the age-difference. One was clearly older than the other by at the very minimum, five years, having gained slight stubble, and a thicker, more prominent jawline that could only come from age. The younger of the two looked to be around ten or eleven years old, lightning bolt scar prominent on his forehead, while the other, perhaps eighteen, or twenty, had the same scar, but silver and faded.

"Who are you?" The younger asked in a hush, the older stiffening as they faced each other.

"Who are you?" The other repeated, clearly confused as he looked around, "This is my old room…"

"It's _my_ room – but it was Dudley's before," the younger boy frowned, "What magic did you use to get here? It has to be magic, right?"

The older frowned, matching the other in an absurdly identical expression, "What year is it?"

The younger boy narrowed his eyes, "Nineteen ninety-two." The older boy sucked in a breath.

"Oh no."

"Oh no, what?" The younger questioned. The older slowly got up off the floor, standing hesitantly, the other boy following. In the light, the younger could see the older – he wore a fitted green t-shirt and blue jeans with nice trainers, the only other thing visible being a leather bracelet around his wrist.

"This is going to sound _crazy_ , but…I think I've gone back in time." He met eyes with the younger boy once more. "I'm you, from the future. I'm Harry James Potter, from the year nineteen ninety-nine."

The younger Harry stepped back, banging against a chest of drawers, "You're crazy." But all of a sudden, the quiet they'd arrived in became quieter, and then came a dreaded thumping from the stairs. The two Potter's looked to the door in horror, before it opened to reveal Vernon Dursley in all his glory, wearing a ghastly suit. He went to whisper-shout, only to see the older Harry, who stepped forward, whispering impromptu as genius struck.

"I'm a relative of James Potter. I've come to take Harry away so you never have to see us ever again. We'll be leaving within five minutes by teleporting out of the room – I'll come back for his stuff later tonight. You won't see or hear me, and if I'm lucky, you'll never ever have to see either of us again."

Vernon, at his words, gaped, spluttering before finally pursing his lips tightly, glaring as he nodded, slamming the door and going back downstairs to where – the older Harry presumed – the Mason's waited with Petunia and Dudley. The younger Harry looked to him in awe.

"You're taking me away?"

The older Harry hesitated, before a hoot came from Hedwig, who was trapped in her cage. The older Harry stared at the bird for a few seconds, as if in awe, before swallowing, rubbing his eyes under his glasses and nodding, looking back at the younger Harry.

"Yeah, I'll take you away. We'll stay in the Leaky Cauldron, but first I need to disguise you. Everyone will be clambering over each other to get to just shake your hand," he ran a hand through his hair, trying to think up a plan on the fly. To think, less than five minutes ago he'd been wandering around the Department of Mysteries with Luna as his guide. A sudden thought occurred to him, his hand going to the holster in his wrist. His eyes trailed downwards, heart panging upon seeing his Holly wand gone. _It's probably because of time-streams and not being able to exist twice_ , he thought morosely, remembering Luna's airy speeches about the progression of time and applications of long-range time-travel. He winced upon realising he actually had no way to apparate them to their destination.

But then a crack filled the air, and both Harry's turned to look at Dobby, who immediately squeaked upon seeing them both.

"We need you, Dobby!" The older Harry blurted out as he saw him about to disappear. The house-elf hesitated, but it was all Harry needed. "You don't want Harry to go to Hogwarts this year, I know that, and while I'm not agreeing with you, if you _did_ want him to stay home, he would need his things to study anyway, wouldn't he?" There was a pause before Dobby nodded, "Great, _so_ , before we agree to anything, why don't you get Harry's trunk and other things from under the stairs and bring them here, then we can talk technicalities?"

The younger Harry went to speak, but then Dobby nodded, smiling weakly, before disappearing, reappearing a second later with younger Harry's things. Older Harry smiled at Dobby.

"Thank-you," he opened the trunk, taking out Harry's wand before waving it, causing the objects in the room to hover before they dived for the trunk, all cramming in until it was overflowing. "Dobby, could you help?" Dobby nodded quickly, grinning before snapping his fingers, causing the trunk to sort out so just about everything could fit in – the only things that didn't being younger Harry's Nimbus 2000 and Hedwig in her cage, the latter squawking as she was placed on the ground.

"Hush, Hedwig," the younger Harry said, before picking her and the Nimbus up, the older Harry shutting the trunk and putting it upright, Dobby's smile fading into a confused frown. Older Harry gave him an apologetic look before putting his hand on younger Harry's shoulder and apparating them all – he, younger Harry, Hedwig, the trunk and the Nimbus – to an alley he knew near Charing Cross. Immediately younger Harry swayed, sucking in a breath.

"What was that?"

"Apparating," older Harry replied, glancing about for any unfortunate muggles that needed obliviated, "you'll get used to it." He took Hedwig from the younger wizard, opening the cage locks and padlocks with a muttered 'alohomora'. "Go get something to eat, then fly to Hogwarts and wait until August eighth to come back and find us. I love your feathers, girl, but snowy owls aren't from Britain, and you get noticed." Hedwig chirruped before coming out of her cage, fluttering to his shoulder to nip his ear before going down to the younger Harry, giving him a longer farewell before flying off. Older Harry threw her cage in a nearby dumpster before shrinking younger Harry's trunk and Nimbus, taking the latter from the surprised twelve year old and stuffing both in his pocket.

"Okay, first we gotta disguise you, and figure out how to address each other." He twirled the younger Harry's holly wand, noting it wasn't as smooth or worn as it would be in seven years time. "You can be Harry if you like," he offered.

"Thanks," replied Harry, "why don't you be James? Like Dad?" Immediately the older Harry pursed his lips, a flash of Sirius calling him James running through his mind.

"No, not James," he muttered, before speaking again, "Henry? John?"

"No," Harry shook his head, "you don't look like a John, or a Henry. How 'bout…Arthur?" Older Harry shook his head, "Daniel?" Nope. "Tom?" _Definitely_ not. "You're making it really hard. How about…Charles?"

Older Harry grimaced, "I don't know. Jack, maybe?"

"How about Jessie?" Harry gave another name, before humming, "I like that. You could pretend to by my Uncle Jessie!"

The older Harry gave him a short frown, "Why would I be your uncle?" Harry shrugged.

"I don't know. You can't exactly pretend to be my brother. How are you going to live while I'm at Hogwarts?"

Older Harry…Jessie, shook his head, "I have no idea." He tapped Harry on the head, turning his hair auburn – not Weasley red, but more like the colour he'd seen in the pictures of his mother. Doing the same for himself, he frowned at the sight of Harry's scar, remembering his own at last second before he looked out of the mouth of the alley. Peering at muggles passing along in the night, he spied someone across the road with a ratty blue baseball cap. Putting a notice-me-not on it would be hard for any other wizard that far away, but he'd always had excellent eyesight and aim. A second later he summoned it across the road, doing the same for two similar hats before showing them all to Harry. "Pick one."

Harry bit his tongue at the sight, before he picked the red one, putting it on. Jessie immediately twisted it around strategically on his head, so it was backwards. He made sure to cover his lightning bolt scar before doing the same for himself, knowing without looking where his faded scar would be. Then, he waved his wand again, changing their eye-colours to dark blue and a hazel respectively – hazel for himself, dark blue for Harry – before fixing their skin-tones to match.

"Okay, that's our looks sorted," Jessie muttered, before eyeing Harry's clothes. His own fit him well due to some 'proper shopping' with Lavender as a birthday gift, the girl guilt-tripping him. She'd bought more clothes for him than she had for herself. But Harry's clothes were still Dudley's hand-me-downs. "Don't get alarmed by this," he warned, before shrinking Harry's clothes as he wore them. As expected, Harry muffled a yelp.

"Is…is this how tight everyone else usually wears them?" And Jessie couldn't help but feel angry at himself as he nodded, wanting to hit his head off a wall as he remembered the Dursleys' cruelty. "It's weird."

"You'll get used to it," he whispered, before hugging him. The boy stiffened in his grasp, but Jessie held on tight, knowing how much the boy needed it – knowing much he had needed it, before he realised it was never coming. A few seconds later, Harry returned the hug, and both were silent for a long while, just embracing there in the alley. Eventually, Harry's grip loosened, his weight leaning onto Jessie, becoming more casual.

"You're going to look after me?" Harry asked, voice small but solemn. Jessie nodded, pressing his chin to the younger boy's head.

"Yeah, buddy. I'm going to look after you."

Harry finally pulled away from the hug, fixing his glasses. "So what now?"

Jessie, at that, searched through all his pockets, making a triumphant noise upon finding his wallet. "Good, muggle money still here." He put his wallet back into his pocket before taking his younger self's hand, "We're getting you some new glasses. These ones," he tapped his own, "were magically fixed. Yours are still the wrong prescription. I think there's a Specsavers down the road."

And then the two Potter's were walking down the road, disguised but happy.


	2. Chapter 2

Mafalda Hopkirk had worked in the Ministry of Magic for a long time – but never before had she been so worried. A few hours ago, the use of multiple conjurations and a sorting charm had been detected in the residence of one Harry James Potter, age eleven years and eleven months, and Mafalda had gone to send a letter – but then came the notification that he had apparated, with a passenger. Near-twelve year olds couldn't apparate, let alone with another person.

So Mafalda came to the conclusion that Harry James Potter had been taken, and whether his abductor was benevolent or not, it was cause for her to rush to the Auror Department to inform someone.

As she concluded her short tale, Amelia Bones – Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, otherwise known as the DMLE – pursed her lips, before tapping her wand against a stone on her desk. A few seconds later, the door to her office opened and half a dozen Aurors appeared.

"Go to Number Four, Privet Drive, of Little Whinging, Surrey. We have reason to believe Harry Potter has been kidnapped by an unknown adult witch or wizard, using apparation. Miss Hopkirk detected the use of magic in his home-"

"Seven conjurations and a sorting charm," she interjected.

"-before detecting a side-along apparation. Logic suggests, as a young boy who is barely even twelve cannot apparate, he has been taken. You will split into three teams – one to inform his family of his disappearance and ask questions, searching his room, etcetera; one to follow the apparation trail without interfering with the first team, and locating Mr Potter if possible; and the final team to inform whoever Harry Potter's magical guardian is. This third team will go to the Hall of Records to find this out, and if one isn't listed, return here with the appropriate forms so the Ministry can claim guardianship." She looked them all over with a stern glare. "This affair is to be kept quiet until we have made sure that either Harry Potter is safe, or we cannot locate him. Understood?"

"Yes Madam Bones," they all replied in various timbres, before hurrying out of the door. Mafalda swallowed, watching them go, before Amelia captured her attention.

"Mafalda, you should get back to work – we'll find him. You don't worry about Mr Potter."

Mafalda gave a nervous nod, standing, "Of course, I'll go back to my office – probably already got a backlog." She bit her lip, before scurrying out of the room. She hoped the Boy-Who-Lived would be okay.

* * *

"Jessie?"

The older Potter looked over at his younger counterpart, who was face-down on the Leaky Cauldron's bed. "Yeah?"

"Do you think you'll be able to get back to your own time?"

Harry- _Jessie, I'm Jessie now,_ breathed in deeply, thinking on the matter. The pit in his stomach was deep, when it came to that matter. His wand was gone, and he had no way to know if the Department of Mysteries would help him. Truthfully, he found it unlikely, but he nodded anyway.

"Sure, I'll figure out something. If I can't though, the least I can do is make your life better than mine – I've got a good idea what's coming, after all."

The younger Harry's next words were muffled, so Jessie didn't catch them. "Huh?"

Harry turned his head, so his cheek was on the mattress, dark emerald eyes averted as he spoke. "I don't want you to go. You've already made things a whole lot better. You got me out of the Dursley's."

Jessie looked to the young boy. "Hey, it's nothing, really. I'm you, remember?"

"No you aren't."

There was a pause.

"You're not me. You're older – you're Harry Potter, whose finished school and can do heaps of magic and have done stuff that- I don't even know." Harry met his gaze, shuffling forwards. "I'm Just Harry. You're Harry Potter."

Jessie – _embrace the name, embrace the name_ – swallowed at his words, understanding what he meant, but disagreeing. "I'm Jessie now. You're Harry. I know it seems difficult, but you are going to grow up eventually. Things will happen, hopefully differently to the way they happened to me, and you're going to see it all. Everyone changes, Harry – you already have. You faced Quirrell without even flinching, and that takes courage – courage that I don't think I have anymore." He looked at the ceiling, trying to burn the image of Voldemort's body from his mind. He was just so tired – and the prospect of potentially facing him _again_ , living through a war that he thought had ended for good…

"No."

Jessie looked to Harry. "'No'?" The preteen was looking at him with angry eyes.

"You could face Quirrell any day. I nearly _died_ – you could have defeated him easily! Every time you do magic, I can see it. You're brilliant," a smile tugged at his lips, "and maybe I'll be too, in the future. Right now I'm twelve. You're how old?"

"Nineteen," Jessie admitted, playing with a leather bracelet around his wrist. Luna had given it to him after her trip to Norway – where she'd migrated after realising her Crumple-Horned Snorkacks had migrated from Denmark, after moving there from Sweden. It was a dark brown, braided, with tiny stone beads with little runes…

Runes that were glowing gold?

Jessie frowned, sitting up on the bed, bringing his wrist up to his face. Harry sat up too, peering at it.

"What's that?"

"Gift from a friend…she's coming to Hogwarts this year, Luna…amazing girl, brilliant, one of the best friends I have…" he muttered, twisting the band so he could see it better, but his sight betrayed him. He adjusted his spectacles. "I seriously need new glasses." Just then though, the runes suddenly brightened-

And then there was a body falling on his, making him yelp as he was elbowed and smashed in the face with a shoulder. Scrambling, he untangled himself from the body, looking up to see a feminine face surrounded by wet, shoulder-length hair the colour of fire, wide hazel eyes whizzing around, flicking between him and Harry, before her arms – bony but muscled – came up to cover a small bust, other hand grabbing at the sheets of the bed.

"Where am I? What happened? Where's Sirius? Who are you?"

Jessie, eyes wide, got off the bed, taking off his zip-up hoodie and holding it out, the girl snatching it and putting it on – Jessie noticing at last minute her other hand patting the space where a wand-holster traditionally set. Harry's wand appeared in his hand, slipping out from his own conjured holster just as the girl seemed to notice her own wand's absence. Her eyes zeroed in on the wand.

"Hey, give me that!"

"Why should I?" He asked tightly, "You just appeared out of nowhere-"

"It's _my_ wand! Give it back!" She went to lunge forward, only for Harry to speak up.

"No it's not – it's mine. He's borrowing it until he gets his own."

The girl paused, looking to him, "Who are you?"

"Harry Potter, and this is my older self, but I call him Jessie. Leave him alone." Said older counterpart breathed in heavily, inwardly thanking Merlin that he was that quick-witted as a kid – it could have been a _lot_ worse.

The girl blinked at his words, looking between them as she got off the bed, pulling the sheets with her to hide her long legs. "Potter? You're both…Harry Potter?" Suddenly Jessie had a sinking feeling, wand lowering as he stared at her.

"Fuck – you're a girl. You're _us_ – as a _girl!_ " He stared at their female counterpart – _female!_ – eyes sweeping over her. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen," she answered in a fearful voice, before Jessie remembered what she said. _Where's Sirius?_ He swallowed.

"You ran through the veil. Remus didn't hold on tight enough." She didn't answer, proving he was correct. "I assume you've got the same history as me then, up until then at least – Quirrell, the Chamber, Sirius, the Tournament-"

"-Umbitch," she finished, cringing. "So, what is this? How does this keep happening?"

Jessie gave a heavy sigh, before rubbing his eyes, only to notice something. "Where's your scar?"

"Scar?" She questioned, eyes flickering to his forehead, then to Harry's. "Oh, you have yours on your head…" she brought a shaky hand to the collar of his jumper, pulling it down to show her clavicle, where a scar laid – but instead of a lightning bolt, it was a weird, trident-like Y with another little line in the middle of the small v.

"It's Algiz, an Elder Futhark rune. It symbolises defence, protection, warding off evil, a guardian, a shield, and when applied to a person, means they should always follow their instincts, because the Gods guide them." Jessie blinked. She shrugged lightly. "I took Ancient Runes. I suppose you didn't."

"Care and Divination," he replied, "Ron said it was an easy O." She rolled her eyes.

"Of course. I'm lucky enough to be a girl then – I followed Hermione into Ancient Runes instead of Divination. Still took Care, but I did Arithmancy too. I was _sensible,_ " she mocked with a slight smile. He rolled his eyes. She then held out her hand awkwardly. "Rhys. Rhys Severa Potter."

He took her hand, "Jessie. Jessie Potter. Don't have a middle name as of yet." Rhys smiled awkwardly, prompting him to clear his throat. "Would you like me to conjure you some clothes or something?"

"That'd be nice," she agreed, giving Jessie leave to raise Harry's wand, conjuring a white summer dress beneath the jumper, and a belt around her waist. She let go of the blanket to look herself over. "Change the colour to red." Lip twitching, he changed it the Gryffindor red, leaving her smiling, before she unzipped the jumper so he could further tweak it to her specifications. Eventually the dress was changed enough that she was happy with it, so she got on the bed, grinning at young Harry as she hugged him. He blinked in confusion, before hugging her back lightly.

"Hi…?"

Rhys pulled away, "Lovely to meet you, Harry. I'm sure you'll be like a little brother I never wanted," she winked at him, ruffling his hair before flopping onto the bed beside him. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to sleep. It's been a long day." She didn't hesitate before stuffing her head in Jessie's pillow, leaving Harry and his older self to stare at her.

Talk about having a big evening.


	3. Chapter 3

Later, when Rhys and Harry were both asleep, Jessie left the rented room at the Leaky Cauldron, going to Knockturn Alley under several spells that both altered his appearance and disguised his presence from the average witch and wizard. The year after the war had been spent rebuilding, but Harry – unlike Hermione – decided that the 'eighth year' wasn't for him.

Ron was identical in this thought, and both joined the Aurors, entering the Auror Academy. Not many realised what this fully entailed, though to be quite fair they were extremely secretive about their training program and the identities of their trainees. It was the best in all of Europe, after all. Aurors weren't just policemen for the Magical World, they were soldiers and guards and spies and cannon fodder. And not all that entered the Academy left Aurors. Obviously, some dropped out, but others became Hit-Wizards, or part of the Muggle Government Defence Guard, or the Wizarding Legion – basically the very secretive army who told no-one what they actually did, at all – or indeed, stolen by another Ministry Department, the most notable being the Department of Mysteries, the second being the Department of International Cooperation. In the Academy, you were trained in a variety of subjects, from duelling to diplomacy, foreign languages to logic puzzles, espionage to army tactics. Ron had excelled, despite what many might have thought, and when Jessie had…left, Ron had been on the way to becoming one of the most skilled tactician the Academy had ever seen.

Jessie, however, had drifted. He didn't have a specific skill set – though he was notably good at duelling – and basically, during the year he'd been in the Academy, he's skipped between specialities, becoming a Jack of All Trades, just about. There had been a point though where the Academy got annoyed at him, and sent him on a small-time mission, something they probably thought he'd completely fail. It had involved spending three weeks in Knockturn Alley, staying undercover as an aged duelling-circuit contestant who'd been banned after too many dark curses. He was supposed to find out something – anything – before bringing it back to the Academy, who'd act on it if they thought it suitable.

Jessie managed to stay undercover a short time before finding something, and he still claimed that it wasn't his fault that he had to take it into his own hands. Theodore Nott Senior – one of the few Death Eater's that managed to escape getting arrested by simply running – had been in Knockturn, trying to barter a fake identity off someone, complete with permanently changed family tapestries, Family Grimoires, the whole shebang. Jessie obviously took offense to that, and knowing the Auror Department had been collaborating with the Order of the Phoenix, trying and failing to track him down, started a street-wide fight, using his newly-taught skills to distract the dark wizard before capturing him and bringing him – and the woman who could provide fake identities – back to the Academy's doorstep.

There had been a lot of paperwork for him to fill out after his little 'stunt', as the Academy professors called it fondly, and while it had taken literal days to get it all done, skipping his classes to do so, Jessie had learnt all about the case that he had both closed and opened – who knew how many people the woman, 'Alexis Maxwell', had proved fake identities for. So he knew all the details, knew all the itty gritty bits of every interrogation, every dose of truth serum – he knew who she was, and where to find her, and how to get a fake identity off her without paying.

So, quite rightly, as a most likely illegal time-traveller – or was it dimension-traveller? – he wanted to find that woman, and not just for himself, but for Rhys too. _She deserves better_ , he thought firmly as he approached her shop, opening the door and stepping inside, attracting her attention. Looking over her, Jessie found himself amused.

'Alexis Maxwell', last time he'd seen her, had been disguised as an old woman with wrinkled skin, dead eyes and a long grey ponytail. She clearly had no issues pretending to be any age imaginable, as she was currently disguised as a teenager with a pink streak in her hair, still in a long pony-tail, though higher than in the future, and was wearing a Weird Sisters shirt and blowing Drooble's Colour-Changing Bubblegum.

"Not taking customers," the witch said flatly, voice clear and low, a growl escaping from her throat. "Get out." Jessie went over to where she sat at the counter, staring her in the eyes.

"Two identities, no questions asked, and a two-way unbreakable vow that would bind both of us to our word. I'm only offering the latter because I know how fast you can move your precious pets."

Immediately her eyes widened.

"Holy Merlin and Morgana, how do you know about my pretties?" Her face became genuinely distressed as she obviously thought about being caught keeping various endangered magical creatures in her house basement in cruel living conditions, regularly harvesting magical parts from them. The worst part about it was that she honestly loved them, and cared for them. Jessie knew though that a basement was not the same as a forest, or a sky, or a lake or a sea, and almost pitied her despite her abduction of them.

"Don't ask questions you won't like the answers for. Now what do I need to do?"

She sniffed, wiping her eyes. "Well, bring in this other person who needs an identity, and give me a portfolio of what kind of life-history you want, qualifications, etcetera. Also, three vials of blood from the person you want to be related to, furthest away relative being that of a second cousin."

"That's fine," he replied, inwardly trying to think up a scenario that wouldn't have Rhys trying to attack him in poor, innocent Harry's defence when he said he needed her to come to Diagon Alley, and three vials of Harry's blood. Suddenly something occurred to him, as well as the realisation that she'd be under an unbreakable vow of silence. "But, uh, weird thing is, we're already related, pretty closely actually. Extremely closely. We need to do the vow now."

She glared at him. "We need a third witch or wizard for that."

Jessie grit his teeth, before taking out his wand, debating before finally just deciding that there was only one person who he could possibly trust with this. He waved his wand.

" _Expecto Patronum_ ," from the tip of his wand, white light came out in wisps, before forming a stag. "Go to Severus Snape and tell him that I need a Bonder for a two-way unbreakable vow, and he, right now, is the only one I can rely on. I'm at the store in Knockturn Alley opposite Ringworm's Apothecary. I'll explain properly once he arrives. Tell him not to go for his wand." Prongs pawed the air before running off, Maxwell staring at it in awe as it disappeared.

"A fully formed Patronus…Merlin, I thought for a second you really were a dark wizard come to take away my pretties." She sighed, rubbing her forehead at his confusion. "Only wizards with pure enough souls can produce a patronus. It's different for women – and don't ask why, nature's a bitch – but yeah, so identities? Why all the secrecy?"

Jessie frowned at her, before hearing the pop of apparation outside. A few seconds later the door to the shop opened, admitting Severus Snape. He was just as Jessie remembered – oily black hair, black Potions Masters robes, unmovable sneer… Jessie smirked at him, before dropping his glamour.

"I'm not James Potter, just a stupid Harry Potter who fucked up with either time travel or dimension travel and is going to try masquerading as his father's half-brother."

Snape, who had started staring in horror, collected himself, glaring harshly, "Only you, _Potter_ , could so completely lose control of his life." He looked to Maxwell. "Is this the other person?"

"Yes, and her part of the vow is that she'll keep everything about this secret, and by everything I mean _everything._ In return I don't tell a single soul – not even you – about her 'pretties'." He gave the witch a sharp look, prompting her to nod stiffly.

Snape, who seemed pretty annoyed at this all, glared again before coming over, whipping his wand out. Jessie took Maxwell's wrist, holding tightly as she gripped his wrist too. Unwillingly, his heartrate picked up, before Snape pressed his wand to the top of their clenched limbs.

"Will you keep everything you learn about me, in the past, present and future a secret from everyone but myself, Jessie Potter, and Harry Potter, Rhys Potter and Severus Snape?"

"I will," Maxwell intoned, prompting a thin tongue of brilliant flame issued from Snape's wand and wind its way around their hands like a red-hot wire. "And will you keep my secrets also? Never informing anyone of what lies in the belly of my home, in the sanctuary of my estate, or leaving trails or careful words for others to trace?"

Jessie gripped her hand tighter, but didn't blame her choice in words, not one bit. "I will," he spoke, causing another tongue of flame to wrap around their hands. Snape cleared his throat to speak the third.

"Will you both keep your word?"

They spoke as one. "I will." The last tongue wrapped around their hands, and when it connected, it thrummed, before exploding in a light shower of sparks. Jessie felt a power shoot up his arm to rest in his heart, before fading completely, not leaving anything – not a numbness, not anything – behind.

Snape took his wand from their hands, then pointed it at Jessie's chest. "Explain. _Now_."


	4. Chapter 4

"That makes no sense," Rhys scoffed, "Snape? Loving our _mum?_ Talk about ew." Jessie grimaced, watching as Harry's face became a copy of his own at the same time.

"I know it sounds horrible, but it's true. Snape even knew Aunt Petunia, though they obviously weren't friends."

"Obviously…" repeated Harry, "Is he the reason she hated magic then? Did he use it against her?"

"To my knowledge, yes," Jessie replied hesitantly, "He made a tree branch fall on top of her head on purpose when she spied on them together."

Rhys frowned lightly, "So he was always an arrogant bastard then?" Jessie shrugged.

"I don't know, but in any case he's staying out of all this, except when needed to help get us into Hogwarts. I sent a letter, applying for Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, with a request that my sister be admitted as a fifth-year student."

"Fifth?"

"Professor?"

Jessie looked to Rhys first, "You never got your OWL scores before coming here, so unfortunately, as the responsible one, I had to admit you didn't have your OWL's. For all I know, Dumbledore could make you take your exams then bump you up to sixth year, so don't get your knickers in a twist." He looked to Harry, "And yes, professor. I'm the only applicant other than Gilderoy Lockhart that I know of-"

"Wait, you're replacing that tosser in this timeline?!" Rhys' eyes widened, "Fuck yes! Please tell me we can reveal that he's a big, fat fraud?!"

Jessie's lip twitched, before he took a list out of his pocket. "I have things to do to make both your lives that much easier." He glanced at it, humour snuffing as he saw the word _horcruxes_. He put the list back into his pocket, before looking back at her. "You aren't allowed to take the map from the twins, or the cloak from Harry." Rhys' eyes filled with anger.

"But they're-"

"Not yours," he interrupted, "This isn't our universe, Rhys, this is Harry's – that means they're his. And anyway, you're the nerd here – don't tell me you never figured out how to make your own map before you left."

The anger faded, leaving the redhead looking quietly bitter, "I had nearly cracked it. I was barely a few hours away from getting it, then I had to go to that stupid History of Magic exam." Jessie looked at her sympathetically, remembered vividly the vision of Sirius screaming in the Department of Mysteries.

"What map?" Harry suddenly asked.

Rhys and Jessie shared a glance.

"Should we tell him?"

"Not about the map – he should get a hold of that himself, but he's going to meet Moony next year if we're lucky-"

"Teachers only last a year in Defence. You could petition to be a duelling instructor next year, so you can be around me-"

"I'll think about it. Want to tell Harry here a little story about the Marauders?"

* * *

Dumbledore had been having a trying past twenty-four hours. Not only was Harry Potter missing from his home, but his relatives were claiming that _another relative_ , who looked just like him, only older, but like him, with magic, had come and taken him away. Dumbledore felt like he was having a heart attack – the dear boy, abducted by a mysterious, obviously disguised force, because he had studied the Potter family extensively. There were no other relatives of close relation, bearing the Potter name or not left alive – he knew that _very_ well, having thought of every alternative to giving Harry to the Dursley family to grow up. His thoughts back then had been, 'damn the blood wards' – but then he truly and finally admitted that Petunia and her son Dudley were the only other options, other than Sirius Black, Harry's treacherous godfather and magical guardian.

Sighing, the aged wizard rubbing the bridge of his nose, absentmindedly shuffling his post about, looking for something that would distract him. It came in the form of Harry Potter's handwriting. For a moment, he froze, then scrabbled for it, tearing the envelope open and taking out the letter, eyes lapping up the words – and in an instant becoming confused.

 _Dear Headmaster Dumbledore,_

 _My name is Jonathan Potter. Recently, I and my sister were told of our origins as bastard children of Charlus Potter, and wanting to know our true family, I sought out my half nephew – Harry Potter. Please, understand that I did not kidnap or otherwise coerce him into leaving. He's been looking for family for a long time, and I want to give him and my sister – his aunt – that. Which brings me to the point._

 _I am nineteen, turning twenty upon the New Year, and have my OWL's, and an uncredited year in the Auror Academy – because pranks by roommates go wrong, and innocent bystanders kicked out with eternal vows of silence forced on former teachers and colleagues – yet no job and permanent place of residence. Harry, upon explaining that tuition to Hogwarts is free, gave Rhys – my sister – the idea that Hogwarts could be the place where she could take her OWL's. With our mother's deaths, she was unable to take them, and as of this past May, is sixteen years old. Rhys was mostly home-schooled, with minimal tutelage in our local Junior Wizarding Legion but is an excellent student, and has agreed, upon your leave, that she would start her fifth year if you let her attend, so as to have time to study OWL-related materials._

 _I was hoping for a chance for us both though, as Harry also informed us that the previous Defence teacher met an untimely end. I am perfectly capable at teaching children, and have experience in the matter – I was part of the Wizarding Legion for a short time, and was our village's primary duelling club leader, holding a twice-weekly club that like-minded peers or mine often attended when I started it upon in fifteenth year to benefit from my experience with dark creatures and crazy wizards who like to hurt peaceful village kids. My OWL results are as follows: DADA, OO+ with honours (158 points, go me), Potions, EE, Care of Magical Creatures, EE, Transfiguration, EE, Charms, EO, Herbology, EA, Astronomy, AA (under extenuating circumstances), Divination, P, History of Magic, D._

 _My apologies if this is not a perfect resume, and I hope you consider at least letting Rhys attend if my offer does not suitably impress._

 _Yours faithfully, J. R. Potter._

The addressee baffled Dumbledore more than the actual content. The person- the wizard who had taken Harry was claiming to be his uncle! And he willingly admitted he had a sister who wished to attend Hogwarts – Harry's supposed half-aunt. The headmaster sat back, heart heavy in his chest as he considered the man's proposal. _His DADA OWL is impressive if it's true,_ he admitted to himself, knowing he himself had only gotten one hundred and fifty-one points for that exam, and the fact that he'd been in the Wizarding Legion was tempting, only made better by the fact that he'd had experience in teaching or at least guiding his peers… _but Harry…_

Dumbledore reached for a piece of parchment, suddenly intent on replying. He would ensure Harry's safety first and always – and only then, if the boy was happy in his position, would he consider hiring the man.

 _I'll have to meet this 'Jonathan Potter' first though._


	5. Chapter 5

"Hedwig, oh you beautiful girl," Rhys crooned over the snowy owl, who puffed up in pride as the witch stroked her feathers softly, in exactly the right place. "Yes, you are so beautiful yes you are…" Harry was fascinated by her attention to the bird, as was Jessie, but the latter was more captivated by the owl than the girl. She'd been dead in his timeline for over two years, and seeing her felt like seeing a photograph – a photograph from a long time ago, before his Hedwig was…was finished.

But he let Rhys have time with the bird. She was the only thing that she could recognise right now – she'd tried using Harry's wand, but it had different grips, because of the difference between a boys hand to a girls. Jessie would be taking her to see Ollivander, with Harry there too, so that they both could get their own wands, tomorrow. But first… He looked to the letter he'd received from Professor Dumbledore, asking to meet in the Leaky Cauldron for afternoon tea, inviting not only Jessie, but also Rhys and Harry. Jessie was hesitant. Dumbledore liked to keep his cards close to his chest – too close. But he also cared. Reading journals of his that McGonagall had found revealed Dumbledore in both a more positive and more terrible light.

He was debating over whether to tell his newfound family about the meeting, only for the letter to be summarily snatched. "Hey!" He sat up, watching as Rhys read the letter, stroking Hedwig at the same time.

"A meeting with Dumbledore? With free food?" She looked to the clock. "Good thing it's only downstairs, or we'd be late. Harry, get some respectable clothes on, we're having tea and cakes with the headmaster."

Harry looked to Jessie, "Why didn't you say?" He asked as he went over to the drawers, tugging off his ratty white t-shirt he'd been using to sleep in, replacing it with a black Batman shirt with the yellow logo on the front that made him look like a bean sprout, rifling through the next drawer down for a pair of jeans. Jessie looked around uncomfortably before standing, summoning a fresh t-shirt. Rhys' eyes though were hard to escape, following him as he didn't answer Harry's question.

"You don't want to go." It was a statement, and a correct one at that. But Jessie evaded.

"I was still making up my mind. Dumbledore's less trustworthy than you believe." It was then he realised that he'd not told them about the prophecy – that Rhys had barely heard it all in that mess in the Department of Mysteries. _She's probably still wondering what the hell it was about._ "I need to tell you something later, Rhys. Harry, don't ask or try spying on us when I do – I'll tell you what we spoke about before we get to Hogwarts on September first."

He switched his shirts, turning away politely as Rhys got up without answering, changing into one of her new dresses – having dragged the both of them on a shopping trip for new clothes and belongings just that morning – and pulling on a pair of plain skin tights and her new brown lace-up boots. Jessie did have to admit, when he turned around, she looked quite pretty. Her fiery hair was perpetually messy usually, but she had managed to pull it into a respectable bun on the top of her head, wearing a form-fitting red summer dress and a long grey wool cardigan that had no buttons or ties. Unlike Harry or Jessie, she didn't have glasses, and like this her curse scar – the Algiz rune thing that looked like an upside down peace sign without the circle – was on view.

"Ready?" She asked, prompting him and Harry to nod – who had changed into a pair of black jeans and his new forest green Converse. "Right, downstairs we go." The three vacated the room, Jessie locking it behind them before directing them downstairs, whereupon the three scanned the room, looking for the esteemed Chief Warlock.

They found him quickly – he sat in plain view, at one of the more nicely-lit tables, already sipping tea from a china tea-cup. He looked just how Jessie remembered him – old, wrinkled, with a long white beard and as-equally long hair, wearing bright purple robes with moving silver stars that upon second look, made smiley faces every so often. Upon seeing the three, Dumbledore put his tea-cup down, standing as he looked them and then Harry critically over his half-moon glasses.

"Harry, my boy, how are these people treating you?"

Harry smiled at him tightly, prompting Jessie to remember this was the second time they'd met face-to-face. "Good, sir. Aunty Rhys made us go shopping this morning – I got new clothes." He tugged on his shirt, grinning a little before Jessie cleared his throat.

"Hello professor," he greeted, holding out his hand. Dumbledore shook, looking at him again.

"Mr Potter, I assume? You look very much like your brother, father – and indeed, nephew."

Jessie gave an awkward smile, "I've heard, yeah. Didn't think I would be looking at a carbon copy of myself though when I picked him up."

Dumbledore hummed sadly, "Yes, I heard…why don't we sit, yes?" He gestured to the table, holding out a chair for Rhys, who smiled at him.

"Thank-you, sir."

"You are very welcome, Miss Potter." Jessie and Harry sat down at the table, Harry sitting opposite Rhys, leaving Jessie and Dumbledore to face each other. "Tea?" The professor offered. Jessie gestured to his cup, Dumbledore flicking his wand to make the teapot float, pouring for them all.

"Sugar?" He questioned, the three replying in tandem.

"One, thank-you professor." There was a short silence, Rhys and Harry trying and failing to conceal grins as Jessie fidgeted, Dumbledore looking on amusedly.

"One sugar, then. I have eleven, myself," he said jovially, before sugar cubes floated into the cups, milk following at their nods. "So, Miss Potter – you are sixteen, yes?"

"Yes sir – I was born on May ninth, nineteen seventy-six," Rhys replied. Beside her, Jessie looked at his tea, sipping the hot beverage as he wondered if it was good for his sanity to have made her birthday the same as the Battle of Hogwarts.

"And you have not had the chance to take your OWL's?"

"No sir," Rhys shook her had. "Mum- our mum died at the end of April." She looked to the cakes on the cake-stand, picking the one with the marzipan schnauzer on it that silently barked happily, enchanted as wizarding food usually was.

Dumbledore sat back in his seat, "Would you be able to take your examinations this coming Halloween, I wonder? Certainly, I have now had a chance to look into you, and what Ministry examinations you have done in the past show a brilliant record."

Rhys didn't blink before replying, "Could I do them next week?"

Dumbledore smiled at her answer, eyes twinkling, "You remind me of your sister-in-law, Miss Potter – Lily was quite the avid learner, at times. You hold a strange resemblance to her, too. If I had not seen her teenage years, I would suspect you had Weasley blood with that hair."

Rhys laughed a little into her cake, chewing and swallowing before replying, "If I'm a Weasley, god forbid I have children. I'll drain my fortune dry! It's only small, you know!" She grinned good-naturedly, Harry snorting as he got the joke. Jessie rolled his eyes.

"Not every Weasley has a million children, Rhys," he said dryly, only for her to poke her tongue out at him. "Put that back in your mouth, or find someone to use it with." Rhys immediately looked around.

"Oh look, there's Percy Weasley. Should I go over?" Jessie and Harry immediately choked, Jessie shaking his head. Rhys nodded. "I'm going over." She went to stand, and when Jessie went to stand she took his wand and quickly silenced and gave him a jelly-legs, smirking as she sauntered over.

"Hey, Percival!" She crowed, causing him to turn from where he was talking angrily to what looked to be the Weasley twins. Immediately Jessie's eyes widened at seeing them. _Fred's alive – I can't believe I forgot!_ Unfortunately, he was distracted by Rhys smirking at Percy, running her finger over his collar.

"Wh-wh-who are you?" He stuttered at the attention, looking like a deer in the headlights.

"Honey, I'm Rhys Potter, now do me a favour and shut up," then she twisted her fingers, grabbing his jumper and bringing her mouth to his. Jessie immediately shouted, but he was still under the silencing spell and was forced to watch as they made out.

Until his special, amazing secret little counterpart went over and grabbed her elbow, pulling her away from the dazed Percy Weasley.

"Rhys! Stop it! We're having a meeting! And get rid of the spells on Jessie!" He demanded as she smirked, glancing at her 'nephew'.

"Little nephew, Jessie told me to put my tongue back in my mouth or use it. It's not _my_ fault that I liked the idea of a snog." Harry glared at her, before a familiar voice called out.

"Harry!"

Jessie and Rhys immediately turned to the speaker, staring in fascination at seeing a young Ron Weasley, who was glancing between Rhys and Harry, looking at Rhys in confusion and Harry with an expression that screamed 'what's going on?'

"Ron, good to see you – sorry if you've not been getting any of my letters, a house-elf is stealing them."

Ron stopped looking at Rhys at that, a scowl appearing, "Yeah right."

"No, it's true," Rhys interrupted, "He's a Malfoy elf who would quite like to be free of his masters – he heard Lucius talking about doing something that would endanger the school. Obviously, if it happens at all, Harry would be in danger, and he's quite the fan. Mad as a bat, but very loyal to m- him, Harry I mean." She looked back to Percy. "Come see me any time, sweetie." Without another word, she turned sharply, coming back to the table and sitting down, munching on the rest of her cake with a focused expression, brows creased as she looked at the table-top, obviously thinking very hard.

Dumbledore, at this point, lightly pressed, "Perhaps it would be prudent to remove your brother from the effects of the silencing spell?"

Rhys turned her head at that, glancing at him before nodding slightly, bringing up Harry's wand and removing her spell, letting Jessie speak again.

"What the hell was that about?" He immediately whispered, leaning forwards, "We're here to speak with Professor Dumbledore about getting you into _Hogwarts-_ "

"I have no qualms about letting Miss Rhys Potter attend, Mr Potter," Dumbledore interrupted in her defence, before giving her a considerable look, "and while it was certainly inappropriate behaviour, there are worse things you can do." She smiled a little, sheepish, causing Dumbledore to give an indulgent one back, before looking to Jessie. "Now, about the possibility of your employment – you did not mention any sort of NEWT qualification."

Jessie shifted, shaking his still-wobbly legs. "I was inducted straight into Auror Academy after my sixth year. They didn't really care. I'm a Jack of All Trades, in any case. If you wanted a duelling instructor or general night patrol, I'd take the job. As I said in my letter, we haven't a permanent place of residence, and I want to stay close to Rhys after all that's happened. And Harry," he added, glancing over to where he and Ron were now talking with the other Weasley boys. Ginny and Mrs Weasley were nowhere in sight, and a sweep of the pub saw Mr Weasley talking to that old colleague of his from the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artefacts.

Dumbledore, at his words, seemed to think deeply. It was another minute before he spoke.

"I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt regarding your sudden unofficial guardianship of Harry, alongside, presumably, your sister – but I will have to take a few days to decide. I have another more…well let us say the school would be quite popular if this select person suddenly showed up as a teacher," Rhys and Jessie grimaced, knowing exactly who he was referring to. "Though as Harry Potter's uncle, you may be as famous, if for different reasons. I will also consider your proposal for other forms of employment – family is everything, and it would not do to split you apart when we can turn to a much easier and lucrative opportunity." He finished what remained of his tea, checking his watch. "I am afraid I have an appointment with the Minister to get to – Cornelius tends to give a time and expect you to arrive fifteen minutes early and wait. I like to be half an hour." He winked, before smiling benevolently. "I would recommend, to improve your chances Mr Potter, that you choose a text or two for each year and send me a list. Good-day." He gave a nod to each of them before walking towards the exit, pausing to say goodbye to Harry before completely leaving.

Jessie leant back against his chair, looking back at Rhys. "Well that was eventful. Mainly because of you, but still…"

Rhys rolled her eyes, "Do you know what you're getting for the booklist? Do you even read?"

Jessie scowled at her, "Yes, thank-you very much. You had the DA too – you know how much stuff we taught those guys. It wasn't just stuff off the top of _my_ head." The girl gave an apologetic look, taking another cake.

"Sorry," she bit into it. This one had a robin on it. "But really, do you have a mental list or something?"

Jessie looked away. "I've got some ideas, but I need to think quickly – booklists come out in three weeks. Maybe I could ask some Hogwarts graduates which books they'd recommend." He sighed, rubbing his scar out of habit before looking over at Harry and the Weasley's again. "Did you like Percy in your universe or something?"

"I had a crush on him at one point, but he was always too old. Now I'm only about six or seven months younger. I think I managed to catch him before Penelope got her very skanky claws in him, too."

"Penelope?" He recognised the name. _Hermione pretended to be her when the Snatchers came for us, and…oh_. "Percy's girlfriend? The one who got petrified with Hermione?"

"Not Percy's girlfriend, if I can help it," she looked him up and down. "They broke up a year after graduating, you know. Penelope couldn't handle his fascination with work."

"Yeah, he was basically married to his job in my timeline," Jessie muttered, "I think he was a spy. For us, in the war I mean. He cut so many ties – he pushed away his family, even sent back his Weasley jumper winter of ninety-six. Came back for the Battle of Hogwarts. Someone broke his nose, I think, before he was pulled into a Weasley huggle. Fred died for him."

Rhys snapped her eyes to him. "What?"

Quickly, Jessie realised what he'd said, "Oh- fuck, dammit, you weren't supposed to find out about that-"

"Fred _died?!_ " She hissed, looking to the twins. "What happened to George? He must have been _heartbroken_ – that's his twin, his partner in _crime!_ "

"He fell into depression for a bit, then realised Fred wouldn't want him to be unhappy. Made so much stuff in his joke shop for PTSD patients, and people like him who'd lost someone. Brought a lot of laughter into the world. He was dating Angelina when I left."

"They'd make an amazing couple," Rhys pressed her lips together, before giving a coy smile, "So who did you like then, if we're talking love?"

Jessie flushed, remembering Ginny. "Not sure you'd want to know."

She waved him off, "You know I like Percy."

"I don't know who you ended up with," he replied, sipping his tea. She smirked.

"Fleur."

Jessie coughed, snorting tea from his nose. He grabbed a napkin, still coughing. "Fleur? Really?"

"Yeah. It wasn't anything properly serious though – just some fun in the summer that lasted a lot longer than it should have, really." She sounded wistful, "That smile – I could watch it all day."

Jessie looked away from her as she zoned out, obviously enjoying her memories. Wiping more tea off of him, grabbing Harry's wand, he looked over to said boy again, only to discover he was talking to Draco Malfoy. Immediately he stood, noticing the defensive posture in himself, coming over to stand behind him. Draco, upon seeing him, stopped halfway through some monologue about 'muggle filth'. Harry looked around.

"Oh, Uncle Jessie, meet Malfoy. He's a stuck-up Slytherin."

Jessie's lip twitched, and all of a sudden he felt a little more diplomatic than war-winner. "Oh? Well I distinctly remember a young boy sitting under the Sorting Hat saying 'not Slytherin', that being the only reason he got placed in Gryffindor." Harry's face immediately pinked. "Don't discriminate, Harry. Draco here was raised to believe that muggles were filth, yada yada, and Salazar Slytherin's warnings against muggles in the time that witches and wizards were burned at the stake, adult and child alike." He glanced at said boy, who looked a little mollified at his words, "Though his father should know not to teach him that, at least not in that way. It's okay to be wary of muggles – they're human, just like us, and when they get scared they fight back. But their weapons are a lot more powerful. Know what a cannon is, Draco?"

"Yes," he answered after a paused. Jessie then took the risk and conjured a gun, feeling a tiny bit of terror himself as he saw it – which morphed into a more foreboding fear as no-one who was watching other than Harry and Rhys did the same. Immediately Rhys yelled, falling back off her chair and hiding under the table, Harry stepped away quickly as Jessie held it towards the floor.

"Jessie! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Rhys yelled, angry and scared. Jessie gave her a look and luckily, she shut up. He looked to Draco.

"This is called a gun. A few hundred years ago, the muggles discovered the way to basically make mini cannons. Rhys, run over to the other side of the room. Sorry in advance, Tom." He waited until she had before moving, Auror Academy reflexes working to his advantage as he turned, shooting the cake on top of the cake-tower, the bullet flying right through and embedding itself in the wall, bang not even finished before the bullet hit. Immediately there were a few screams, and more than a few people jumping. He looked back to Draco, who seemed very afraid.

"If you shot this at a person, a bullet of lead would come flying out the other side of them, if they're lucky. If they're not, and it stays inside, they have to have surgery to get it out. They'd _still_ have to have surgery if it came out the other side. This can tear through organs, and even bone. One shot in hundreds of places around the body can kill you stone dead within a minute, if not immediately. I could shoot your Death Eater of a father, and because I magically enhance my bullets and guns, no shield charm could stop it. If he's clever, he could summon something stone to divert it away from him, but there's no guarantee it wouldn't then just ping off and hit someone like you, or your mother, or some innocent bystander. Remember: _muggles_ made this, and this is not even the worst they have in their arsenal." He vanished the gun. "Maybe if I get DADA Professor this year, I'll take over muggle studies afterwards. Some people need to learn that muggles are not stupid, nor are they insects in comparison to a witch or wizard. And I'll repair that wall, Tom, don't worry." He motioned to the wall with Harry's wand repairing it and vanishing the bullet, tidying up the exploded cake.

Jessie looked to Harry, "Want to go to Alton Towers?"


	6. Chapter 6

Harry studied his counterparts a lot. He watched them go about their days, doing the same things as each other – as him, too – and while Rhys was a girl and that changed things, they were still too similar to be told apart simply by actions. They still only took a minimum amount of time in the shower, they still ate from the side of the plate or bowl before going clockwise – they still said the same thing to him before he went to sleep. That was one of the best bits, in Harry's mind – knowing that he'd get a quiet, "Goodnight, Harry, have happy dreams" from one or even both of them. Dreams were a sore point for both of them, and Harry figured that it would have been in the future for him too, if they hadn't appeared in front of him.

"Harry, your Hogwarts letter is here!" Rhys called through the bathroom door. Harry called back as he washed his toothbrush.

"Coming!" After rinsing it thoroughly, he placed it back at the sink, wiping his mouth on a washcloth before unlocking the door, stepping out only to get a letter in his face. Flinching as it fell to the floor, he gave Rhys an insufferable look.

If there was a single thing that was different between them, it was Rhys' sense of humour.

Picking the letter up, he opened the seal, reading the short letter about taking the Hogwarts Express from Kings Cross like last year before going through the booklist.

"Jessie, which one is the Defence text?" He asked, nose wrinkling. There wasn't one there. He looked around for his counterpart, only to realise he wasn't there. Rhys, however, found his eyes, sauntering over and snatching his booklist.

"I've got one. You don't. Odd. Well, maybe he plans to just give lessons. Probably decided that you need to know stuff you can't learn out of books. He decides what the end of year exam will be about, remember. Merlin, it's going to be weird to have my supposed brother as a teacher."

Harry looked down at his booklist, wondering. "Rhys?"

"Yeah?"

He glanced up at her, "What's going to happen this year?" He'd heard them mention it before in passing, sometimes not in passing – but never in detail. It was frustrating and while he knew Jessie was going to talk to him about a lot of stuff before they went to Hogwarts, he'd never mentioned sharing what was going to happen _this_ year. Seeing Rhys' face though proved he wasn't going to be told any time soon. Inside his head, the voice whispered. **_Make her tell you. Use your wand, take hers and lift her out the window until she tells you want to know-_**

"Harry-"

"No, just forget it," he muttered, trying not to let his reaction to the voice show on his face before stuffing the list in his pocket, heading for the door, grabbing a pouch of galleons on his way out.

They weren't going to leave him the dark about this. He wouldn't let them, _couldn't_ , or the voice would take control. _Time to make a plan._

* * *

Jessie knew it was time to tell Harry about the prophecy. So he told him. The kid took it well – took it very well in fact. Then he started asking questions. Jessie was hesitant to answer most, but then came Harry's secret weapon, his ultimatum.

"If you don't tell me now, then I'll send out letters. I'll tell heaps of people about how you're from the future, and that you kidnapped and brainwashed Rhys, using her blood to make yourself a Potter, faking your identity," he threatened, voice strange and cool – and very, very familiar. "Hedwig is waiting for me to tell her not to go send them out. She'll be gone by dusk. So tell me everything. _Now_."

Jessie conceded quickly, wondering how the hell to get the horcrux out of his counterpart before it fully took over his psyche.

* * *

The platform was crowded, bodies pushing against each other, trunks hitting legs, cat and owls yowling and squawking, shouts rising above the din that was Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Rhys though held a grin on her face, eager to start anew. _I can do so much, make so many new friends_. Hermione and Ron were okay, and so were all her other friends. Rhys though had always been clever, just like Hermione, but unlike Hermione, she was mature too. She'd had few friends in the older years, but the ones she did were amazing. She felt like she could let go around them – breathe properly, and not have to put up with petty mind-sets and juvenility.

For Houses, she wanted Gryffindor. She was a Lion, red and gold and courageous at heart. But if she didn't- if the Hat didn't put her in Gryffindor, then she could only choose Ravenclaw. There were people in Slytherin she had always admired – who she knew couldn't be bothered with politics and mini Death Eaters – and she couldn't do that from Hufflepuff, and no-one would trust her in Slytherin – not to be unfair, but it was the truth. There was too much stigma associated with the Snakes. So yes, Ravenclaw, if she couldn't get Gryffindor – and she knew for a fact that she could be friends with Slytherin's while in Gryffindor. She'd done it before, after all.

(But if she did have to go to Ravenclaw it meant she could stop the bullies from getting to Luna, whomever they were, but she tried not to think about that right now.)

Trunk shrunken inside her pocket, and her new reptilian companion – Savossenn, a Runespoor with a permit – looped around her right upper-arm, Rhys made her way towards the train, jumping on before realising something: the friends she wanted, she didn't have yet. She was only still for a moment though – there was someone behind her. Walking aimlessly up the train, Rhys had to squeeze past others numerous times, until she came to the infamous Slytherin dining car. Upon entering, the already-settled Slytherins eyed her muggle clothes, the nearest set sneering.

"Go away, muggle-lover."

Rhys narrowed her eyes, smirking at him – she recognised the boy now. Marcus Flint. All-round troll and Quidditch Captain for the Slytherin team. _Troll blood._

"Well, you can hardly speak. Your great, great, great, _great_ grandmother had a child with a troll. A _troll_ ," she gave him a pitying look as his friends sniggered, Flint bristling at the suggestion –cough-truth-cough– as Rhys tipped her hip, hand going to sit on it as she leant on her same-sided foot. She leaned forward. "Poor Marcus, can't see a pureblood right in front of his nose." She smirked nastily, standing straight. "I'll have you know I'm pureblood, one of the highest order – I rank above the Malfoy's, only very slightly above the Bones' and I'm from an extremely close offshoot of the main branch of my own family. Don't speak to me if you have nothing complimentary to say." Rhys looked around, as if daring anyone to come to his defence, or insult her again. "Should I consider sitting anywhere at all in this car, or is there anyone at least of average intelligence here?"

"I would say sit with us, but we're only here to get the food first," came a call from the other end of the car. Rhys looked over, recognising the faces of two of the elite she wanted to get in with – Eva Gold and Francis Guttenberg, the former a daughter and secondary heiress of a rich American socialite, and the latter a German-born boy, son of the most prominent European tradesman in his country. Unfortunately, they didn't engage further, only nodding. She returned the action as she turned, going through the open doorway into the train corridor, knowing that Harry would be in her usual compartment – unless Dobby had gotten to him, of course.

Her blood ran cold

 _How could we forget him?_ In an instant she was rushing towards the compartment where she hoped her pseudo-nephew sat, but it was just about eleven o'clock – people were at windows waving to their family, and it was impossible for her to get passed. The whistle blew, and she was suddenly pressed against the window, face visible to the crowd.

And that was when she saw Harry – still on the platform.

In an instant she was rolling down the window, their eyes meeting as he rushed over.

"Aunty Rhys!" He cried, trying to reach her. The train chimney blew, the train starting to move. "Aunty Rhys! I need to get on the train! Someone tied my shoelaces together!" His trunk was in his pocket, Rhys knew, and Hedwig was flying to Hogwarts.

Her face set as parents started to realise what was happening, some stepping back, some trying to lift him up through the window. Rhys reached over, grabbing him under his underarms, pulling his – thankfully, _thankfully_ and not terrible for once – light body, thin frame easily fitting through the window. On either side, people helped. Parents lifted and pushed, and students around Rhys grabbed onto him, pulling him inside just as the train sped up, causing Harry to fall in, head hitting the door. He let out a cry of pain, even as there was light cheering and whoops from the parents outside who had helped, who were disappearing quickly.

The train was moving, and Harry was on it, albeit injured. But Rhys didn't care at that precise moment in time, because while it gave her hope, now she could only dread what Dobby might do next.


	7. Chapter 7

"Everyone, I would like you to meet Jonathan Potter, otherwise known as Jessie – our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore proclaimed from his golden, throne-like chair. The teachers were all gathered, Jessie standing just off to the side, hands behind his back as he stood in the general at ease position.

McGonagall, who had been eyeing him, now narrowed her eyes, "Potter? How old are you?"

"Twenty in December, Professor," he answered plainly, knowing she was trying to figure out his family tree. She was a much closer ally to House Potter than he'd previously known before defeating Voldemort. "But the Headmaster assures me that my experience makes up for my age."

"Your NEWT's?" Professor Sprout questioned. Jessie tipped his head.

"The Auror Academy did not require them."

"Why are you here if you're in the Academy?" Flitwick questioned. Jessie went to answer when Trelawney suddenly spoke up.

"He has come from a place past the fabric of reality!" Her wide eyes were only made bigger by her huge round glasses, Jessie freezing as she spoke, not noticing Snape suddenly looking at her with more than just attention. "You came by no mere _accident,_ Mr Potter," she pointed at him, "the moon knows all as she looks up at you from her pedestal!"

Inside, Jessie's mind was awhir, fingers tucking underneath his sleeve for his bracelet. "Luna," he whispered under his breath, unable to be heard by the surrounding people. But appearances had to be maintained. Coughing, he spoke up. "Professor Trelawney, I assume? I've heard some…interesting stories, from colleagues."

"Yes, this is Sybil Trelawney," Dumbledore stepped in, looking polite as he took charge of the conversation. "She is our resident Divination professor." He motioned to another set of women – those Jessie never really could identify, due to not taking their classes. "There is also Professor Babbling, of Ancient Runes, Professor Vector, of Arithmancy and Professor Kettleburn, of Care of Magical Creatures. Our flying instructor and school matron are not here as of this moment, but I'm sure you'll meet Madam Hooch and Madam Pomfrey at some point."

Jessie nodded, mouth pressed in a thin line as he looked at his bracelet, which shimmered in the light.

* * *

Rhys was bored. Oh so terribly _bored_. She'd been sitting with Harry for the past couple of hours, hanging out with him, Ron and Hermione, because she didn't want Dobby doing anything to hurt him. She could still remember the sharp pain of the bludger hitting her arm in the Quidditch match, cracking it, doing _something_ – Madam Pomfrey didn't get to find out or tell her, as Lockhart, the imbecile, had vanished it.

But now, Rhys was anxious to be doing something else – to be talking with people her own age and maturity. Hermione and Ron were so _young_ now, as well, and she was having a hard time addressing them the same way she did Harry – as if they were twelve, or in Hermione's case, nearly thirteen – and really, she wanted to locate Luna, as well as Ginny. Because of how the summer panned out, they didn't know whether Ginny was given the diary or not. If she had, it would be easier to take it off her hands, if it wasn't…well, there were multiple choices to consider. Dobby was coming after Harry, so Lucius had obviously talked, as he did in the last timeline.

Rhys shut her eyes, counting to ten, trying to clear her mind. She'd had moderate success with Snape in lessons in her Universe, dimension, _whatever_ , and they worked to degree – but Voldemort had always been too powerful for her to block out. Trying to clear her mind now was easier, without the pressure of an irate Potions Professor, or insane Dark Lord. Once she cleared her mind, she could feel her shoulders relax. She breathed in and out, opened her eyes.

"Harry, I'm going to go explore," she interrupted his debate with Ron over playing exploding snap or not, standing and flattening the skirt of her dress. "I'll see you later, 'kay?" He nodded, before going back to his conversation as she left the compartment, walking up the halls slowly, looking into each compartment for familiar blonde hair, or at least Weasley red. She'd travelled through the entire carriage before bumping into Percy.

"Oh, sorry," she smiled up at him, biting her lip nervously and stepping back. He flushed upon seeing her, the person behind him peering over his shoulder. Immediately her smile vanished upon seeing Penelope Clearwater, prefect badge for Ravenclaw secure on her lapel. "Hello, to you both. Have you happened to pass a compartment with a blonde first-year in it? Her name's Luna."

Percy swallowed, frowning lightly, "Luna Lovegood? Why would you want to see her?" His eyes narrowed, looking at her suspiciously. Rhys raised an eyebrow at him.

"Uh, why do you want to know? It's private."

"Luna," he paused, taking a breath before adjusting his position, hands going behind his back. "Luna is a family friend. I've known her since she was a baby. She and her mother came over to our home all the time."

Rhys blinked. _I thought she was just friends with Ginny._ "Huh. So she's, what? Like a little sister to you?"

"She's Ginny's friend," Percy spoke, not answering the question. "And she's always been a little odd. I just want to make sure she'll be alright."

"Then we both have her interests at heart," Rhys smiled at him genuinely, finding herself liking him even more, seeing as they were both concerned over the little blonde. "I haven't seen her in a while – I'd like to say hello. So have you seen her?"

Percy relaxed, but shook his head. "No, sorry – and we have to get back to work," he motioned to Clearwater. "We're new prefects."

"Cool," she looked over at Penelope, wanting to be civil, "Hey. I'm Rhys."

"Penelope," Clearwater gave a tight smile, "I've never seen you around before. What house are you in?"

Rhys shrugged, "Don't know, haven't been sorted yet. I was home-schooled before this year. I'm hoping for Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw." She looked up at Percy, smirking, "But you have to get back to work, as you said." She leant up, kissing him slowly, the Weasley stock still until she pulled away, when he leant down, trying to keep their lips connected. Behind him, Clearwater looked disappointed, and slightly bitter. Rhys kissed the tip of his freckly nose. "See you later, Percival." Then she slipped passed him – him and Clearwater – wondering if Percy had just missed her. Maybe she was in the bathroom.

"Come on Rhys, she can't be that far away," she muttered to herself, before continuing her search. "Come out, come out, wherever you are, little moon…"

* * *

"So is she really your aunt?" Hermione immediately shut her book after Rhys was out of sight. "Because I looked at your family tree in a book after Ron sent me a letter about it. Your father was an only child, Harry." She said seriously, looking solemn.

Harry bit his lip at her words, "It's more complicated than you think, Hermione."

"So she's _not_ your aunt?" Ron wrinkled his nose.

Harry looked between his two best friends, before glancing through the windows of the compartment door. Breathing steadily, he looked back at them.

"You've got to swear you won't tell anyone – anyone at all. I need you to give a magical oath."

Ron seemed to understand what he was asking by that, but Hermione obviously didn't as she recoiled.

"A magical _oath?_ Harry, I've read about those – if we broke them, we could lose our magic. Why would you even ask that?" Harry immediately became irate, fists clenching.

"Because it's important. I'm sorry Hermione, but unless you swear, I can't tell you. And it's not, you _could_ lose your magic, you _would_. The only reason I'm not asking you for an unbreakable vow is because I don't know how to do that, and for all I know, Jessie would give me permission to anyway."

"Jessie – that's your uncle that shot that mini cannon thing in the Leaky Cauldron," Ron interjected. Hermione further became flustered.

"It's called a gun and they are _illegal_ in the UK. I can't believe you would socialise with this man, Harry, let alone let him be your _guardian_."

Harry's anger immediately flared. He stood, glaring at her with his fists tightening, nails digging crescents into his palms. "Uncle Jessie is a good man – he didn't hurt anyone! He was showing Malfoy how stupid he was being by publically shaming muggles. He's going to be the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year, and you haven't even met him, spoken to him – you don't get to judge the person who took me away from the-" he stopped himself, stopped himself before he could say 'Dursley'. He breathed in and out, swallowing before looking to Ron. "Will you take the oath, Ron?"

Ron nodded, for once unconfused and serious as he spoke, "Yeah. Yeah, I will. If it's that important."

"It is," Harry nodded back, prompting Ron to look to Hermione, who seemed appalled.

"Mione, if Harry doesn't trust us enough to tell us this without getting a magical oath, it's important. Really important. You heard what he said – this Jessie's a good bloke, and Rhys is amazing."

"You only think that because she's pretty," Hermione interrupted. Ron scowled.

"What is she is? She kissed Percy, first time he met her. Mum called her a scarlet girl, until Harry defended her in the Leaky – remember mate?" He looked to Harry, "You were so angry at her." He looked back to Hermione. "I don't know if we can trust either of them, not yet, but Harry's our friend. If he says we can trust them, we can – and if we need to swear oaths to learn why, then we should. It's how things are done."

But Hermione still seemed defensive, and Harry knew that it wasn't going to work. He sat down, looking at her.

"If you want to go, go." He didn't let any emotion into his voice as he looked at her through his glasses. Hermione seemed hurt by his words.

"Harry, can't you just tell us? Without oaths."

"No," he immediately answered, remembering Rhys' story about how his Hermione had gone to Professor McGonagall instead of him, thinking a perfectly safe broom was jinxed, or cursed. Hermione would probably go straight to a teacher as soon as they got to Hogwarts. It made his chest hurt at the thought, but Harry knew that this was the only way. "Hermione, you're my friend, but if you can't trust me, then you need to go – and if you try to eavesdrop, it won't work. Rhys and Jessie taught me some tricks over the summer."

Hermione's eyes became slightly glassy, but she stood, holding her book tight to her chest, leaving the compartment, slamming the door behind her. Harry immediately went to it, locking it before taking out his wand, drawing an upside-down arrow with his wand on the glass, thinking exactly 'difficulties in communication', towards where he was facing, as Rhys had taught him. Runes were about intent – Tiwaz meant a lot of things, but reversed, it could mean difficulties in communication, mental paralysis and more that he couldn't remember. Rhys said if he could learn little things now, it would help him next year if he took Ancient Runes. To be honest, he was thinking about it.

On the compartment glass, the rune glowed, before the glow faded and it disappeared nearly completely, leaving only a slight shimmer. Harry drew the blinds, raising his wand and casting the Muffliato spell Jessie had taught him, before going back to his seat. Ron was waiting with his wand out. Harry swallowed.

"Swear on your magic that you won't reveal on purpose in any way what I tell you in this compartment today about the people that you, right now, know as Rhys and Jessie Potter, to anyone other than me, Jessie, Rhys, and whatever you learn about them in the future that's about the same subject, unless I give you permission."

Ron nodded nervously, raising his wand. "I, Ronald Billius Weasley, do swear on my magic not to reveal on purpose, in any way, what you tell me in this compartment about the people that I know, right now, as Rhys and Jessie Potter, to anyone other than you, Rhys or Jessie, and whatever I learn about them in the future that's about the same kind of thing unless you give me permission. So I swear, so mote it be." His wand flashed, before he sagged, looking uncomfortable, hand going to scratch at his chest. "Ugh, that's nasty, like one of mum's jumpers got shrunk while I was still wearing it."

Harry put his wand away. "Sorry. I should probably tell you now."

"Well, yeah, or there wasn't much point to making an oath, was there?" He gave a tense smile before sitting back. "So, what we talking about then, mate?"

Harry decided to get it over quickly. "Jessie and Rhys are me, from different universes. I gave Jessie his name – he used to be Harry as well, but that was going to get confusing, so…and Rhys is the girl version of me. She looks like my mum with my dad's eyes." He winced, looking at Ron, whose eyes had gone wide.

"Really?"

Harry was slightly surprised, "Yeah, they both just appearing out of nowhere – landed right on top of me. Rhys didn't have any clothes on."

Ron's eyes went even wider. "You saw- did you see her…"

Harry flushed, "Yeah. She, uh…she's nice, but it's weird, cause she's, well…me, but a girl."

Ron suddenly made a face, "Yeah, that would be weird. So, do they know how they got here?"

"No, but Rhys went through this veil thing, apparently. I didn't really understand, when they talked about it. Someone else went through it, and she ran after them. Mentioned someone called Remus, saying he didn't hold on or something," Harry shook his head. "And Jessie always plays with his bracelet. They both keep talking about a Luna though, like she would know what's going on."

Ron raised a sceptical eyebrow, "I'd doubt it – Loony's off her head, always talking about these made-up creatures. She used to hang about with me and Ginny, when we were little. She'd be coming to Hogwarts this year."

Harry became uncomfortable, "I'm not sure you should say that in front of them – Rhys is real protective of her. She probably wanted to find her when she left."

Ron shrugged it off, "Her choice. So, anything else I should know?"

Harry grimaced, "I already said they were me – that made things complicated, obviously."

"Obviously," Ron agreed, brow slowly knitting together, "Harry, when you say that they're your aunt and uncle-"

"Yeah, they're sort of illegally in my family tree now," Harry muttered under his breath. Ron sucked in a breath.

"Bloody hell, Harry, if they get caught, they're in Azkaban for _life_ , no matter what you say. You're a minor – for all anyone knows if they find out, they're trying to commit line-theft. They could get the Dementor's Kiss!"

Harry looked at Ron in confusion. "A dementor's what?"


End file.
